


Measure of a Man

by MercurialTenacity



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Birthday, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Branding, Captivity, Crying, Gags, Humiliation, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Obedience, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Size Difference, Verbal Humiliation, small cock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:46:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28427247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurialTenacity/pseuds/MercurialTenacity
Summary: New York was a setback, it’s true.  Gellert had been exposed, he’d lost the obscurus, but despite all that his cause continues to gain momentum.  No, his biggest regret is loosing the dear Director.  He’s been through a string of playthings since, and he’s enjoyed them all, but not a one came close to the satisfaction he felt from making Director Graves squirm and cry with humiliation over his stunted manhood.
Relationships: Original Percival Graves/Gellert Grindelwald
Comments: 1
Kudos: 62





	1. Prologue

Gellert watches dispassionately as the Director squirms in his bonds. His defiant glare does nothing to counter the thick ropes securing him to the chair, or the gag shoved in his mouth. Gellert is still forming his opinion, but nothing so far has led him to believe Percival Graves will be difficult to break.

Gellert approaches his captive, regarding him the way one might observe an interesting but unthreatening beetle wriggling on its back. Graves’ chest rises and falls with the exertion of his struggles, but he stills under Gellert’s detached gaze. Gellert lets the moment linger, and says, “I am going to rend your mind to ragged pieces, and then I’m going to ruin your life, Mr. Graves. You do understand that you can’t stop me?”

Graves’ nostrils flare, his jaw clenches, and Gellert shakes his head with an amused smile. The man will see soon enough. First, though - first Gellert is going to explore that firm, fit body. It’s been too long since he’s had a prisoner he can exploit with so little regard for consequence.

A casual gesture with his wand and Graves’ shirt unbuttons itself, eliciting a noise of surprise as the two halves of fabric part. The director doesn’t try to hide the dawning disgust on his face, nor does Gellert try to hide his leer.

He takes great satisfaction from undressing his captive, working each article of clothing off and playing with the exposed flesh. His nipples are delightful, his thighs make Gellert want to sink his teeth in, and by the time he’s down to just his underwear Graves is fighting as though his life were at stake.

There is absolutely nothing he can do.

“Let’s see the best bits, hmm?” Gellert flicks his wand and Graves’ boxers dissolve. Graves makes a noise as though wounded, but his bindings keep him from curling in to hide his shame.

Gellert just stares at his groin, transfixed, a slow smile spreading over his face.

“Well, isn’t that a treat. Have you always been so small, or did you spill a shrinking potion on it?”

Graves flinches and looks away, his thigh muscles still tensing as he tries to close his legs.

“Aw, no need to be ashamed, Director. I’m going to enjoy playing with your… well, it’s not really a cock, is it?”

No, it’s much too small for a cock. The Director’s prick is well below average, cute and slender where it rests in his lap. His balls are of a normal size, making his prick look even smaller in comparison, and Gellert couldn’t be more delighted. Graves’ humiliation is palpable, and Gellert intends to bask in it.

“Why don’t I show you what a real cock looks like?”


	2. Chapter 2

New York was a setback, it’s true. Gellert had been exposed, he’d lost the obscurus, but despite all that his cause continues to gain momentum. No, his biggest regret is loosing the dear Director. He’s been through a string of playthings since, and he’s enjoyed them all, but not a one came close to the satisfaction he felt from making Director Graves squirm and cry with humiliation over his stunted manhood.

That’s why the sight that greets him upon entering his bedroom is most unexpected, and most welcome.

The former director is on his back propped up by pillows, ropes caressing his heaving body. He’s gagged, reducing any protest to mumbles and whimpers. His eyes roll, and the losing battle he’s fighting against what must be a dose of aphrodisiacs is plain on his face. His legs are bent and spread wide, exposing his twitching hole stretched taut around an enormous plug, charmed to thrust gently while it vibrates away.

Just above his prick is Gellert’s personal double-G symbol, seared into his flesh and leaving no doubt about who he’s for. And his little cocklet - it really is the best part. Graves is quite small for a man of his importance, less than half of Gellert’s length, in fact. Undressing him for the very first time and finding such a wonderful surprise remains a fond memory. Now that teeny dicklet stands up as tall as it can, twitching and straining and leaking in utter betrayal of Graves’ waning defiance. A red ribbon is tied around the head in a beautiful bow, and a gift tag dangles from it. Gellert turns the tag over and reads, _“To our esteemed lord and leader, from your forever faithful - happy birthday.”_

Gellert laughs, overwhelmed at such a thoughtful gift. He’d made no secret that he wanted Graves back in his bed and at his mercy, but he’d never imagined he’d receive such a present. His followers had been secretive lately, and Gellert thought perhaps they were planning a coup and he’d have to execute them all, but now he’s properly chuffed. He’s especially touched because he didn’t even tell anyone it was his birthday.

“What thoughtful lieutenants I have,” Gellert says, his lips stretching into a smile. “Don’t you agree, Director?”

Graves mumbles around his gag in protest and Gellert pats his cheek, his gaze drawn down to that red ribbon.

The first thing Gellert does after unwrapping his little birthday present is to frown and say, “Oh dear. It’s even smaller than I remembered.” 

Graves’ flinch is immensely satisfying.

* * *

It doesn’t take long to see that Graves is still suffering the effects of his first stay at Nurmengard. He’s delightfully, helplessly broken. Now that he’s back in Gellert’s grasp he seems to understand that any attempt at resistance is pointless, and his pathetic trembling makes Gellert’s blood heat up. He still cries, but he doesn’t fight back anymore. He’s perfect.

Gellert soon lays down some rules for his toy, and specifically for his cute little prick. Graves is not to cover it - not with clothes, not with his hands, not ever. It should also be as cute as possible, which means Graves has to tie a colorful little bow around it each morning. It’s usually the only thing he wears.

Gellert finds that he prefers the irony of Graves' prick hard and straining yet no bigger than when it's soft, so Graves is required to keep himself that way. Gellert makes a variety of methods available and doesn’t much care which he chooses, though he would be lying if he said watching the former director dose himself with aphrodisiacs to avoid being punished for having a limp prick doesn’t make him achingly hard every single time.

Not only is Graves’ prick more entertaining when it’s hard, the rule has the added benefit of turning Graves into a whimpering, desperate slut. Unfortunately for Graves his prick is just too small to deserve orgasms in its own right, so Gellert makes him earn them.

After the first time Gellert makes him worship his cock and come by rutting against his shoe he knows Graves will do anything he’s told.

Tonight Graves is choking himself on Gellert's cock, and Merlin, the contractions of his throat as he gags feel wonderful. He rocks his hips forward and Graves convulses, his cock sliding deeper into his throat than he was prepared for, but a firm hand on the back of his head keeps him in place. Gellert can feel him trying to be good and take it, pushing down his body’s instinct to struggle until all that’s left are little helpless twitches. It’s amazing what a few weeks of denial will make a man do.

Gellert’s grip tightens in Graves’ hair. He’s close, so very close - he pulls back and grabs his cock, warm and slick from Graves’ throat, stroking vigorously while Graves coughs and heaves on the floor.

“On the bed,” Gellert gasps, “get up, show me -”

Graves obeys, scrambling up and letting this thighs fall open to reveal that desperate, dusky pink prick. The little bow tied around it makes it looks like such a treat, and Gellert sucks in a breath when Graves says his line without even being ordered to.

“Please come on my tiny prick,” he begs, and Gellert does. He feels his balls draw up and pulse, and thick ropes of come splash into Graves’ lap as waves of pleasure roll through him.

The sight which greats Gellert once he catches his breath and looks down is gorgeous. Graves is flushed and panting, his face a mess of tears and saliva, and his useless prick is dripping with the kind of release he just doesn’t deserve.

Gellert pushes him down with a hand wrapped around his throat, pinning him to the bed and squeezing to stifle his yelp.

“Hush, darling,” he coos, trailing his free hand down Graves’ chest, over his quivering stomach, and taking hold of his sorry, underdeveloped prick. It’s slippery with Gellert’s come, and his hand glides easily as he strokes. In moments Graves has melted into it, the tension draining right out of his muscles, and Gellert scoffs at his weakness. “No wonder you were so easy to break, pet.”

Graves turns his head away and shuts his eyes, but it doesn’t stop his hips from bucking up into Gellert’s fist. Gellert thinks he can even spot some fresh tears glittering in his eyelashes, the poor thing. His own cock stirs, trying valiantly to harden again.

“Tell me,” he says conversationally, “how long was it before you gave up hoping this prick of yours could be normal? Did you dream about it all through school - stay up late researching engorgement charms, maybe?” Gellert speeds up his strokes, and he feels Graves’ thighs start to tense. “How many times did you put yourself in the hospital wing trying anything you could think of to fix your stunted excuse for manhood?”

Graves is openly sobbing now, and Gellert could lose himself watching the way his chest heaves; the tear tracks running down his cheeks; his hands pulling at the sheets.

“I wish I could have seen your face when you finally realized you’d always be inadequate. _Lacking.”_

Graves shakes his head, and Gellert choses that moment to let him come.

His body seizes and his eyes roll back as his overfull balls pulse, sending spurt after spurt of come dripping down his meager length. He twitches, thrashes, unable to resist orgasming to his deepest shame.

Gellert drinks in the sight of abject humiliation mixing with ecstasy, and he knows that he will never tire of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by some wonderful anons on tumblr. Find me at [mercurial-tenacity.tumblr.com](http://mercurial-tenacity.tumblr.com/)! :)


End file.
